The Black Widow didn’t get flustered. She was unshakeable, unbreakable, and unreadable. Yet, as Natasha Romanoff stood across from you in the common area of the Avengers Tower, she found herself tripping over her words again.

You were lounging on the couch, casually flipping through a book, completely unaware of the effect you had on her. Or maybe you did know, which somehow made it worse. Natasha had faced impossible missions and deadly enemies, but you? You were something else entirely.

It started small—a fumbled greeting here, an awkward laugh there. But it had escalated. Like the time she walked into the gym, spotting you mid-workout, sweat glistening on your skin. She’d gone to compliment you but ended up muttering something incomprehensible about “good form” before nearly walking into a weight rack.

Or the mission debrief when she’d tried to suggest a tactical improvement but instead complimented your quick thinking about four times in a row. Steve had raised an eyebrow; Clint hadn’t stopped teasing her for days.

Today, it was worse. You looked up from your book, your warm smile knocking the breath out of her lungs. “Hey, Nat. You okay? You look... distracted.”

Natasha tried to reply, but her mind betrayed her. Instead of something smooth, she sputtered. “I—uh—fine. Great. Just... enjoying the air.”